The Playboy, the Businessman and the Tomboy
by Groovy Whovie
Summary: Alec was the life of the party, the canoodler. Jace was the stick in the mud. He'd be your man, if you ever wanted a stick in the mud, which, of course, no one does. Mortal Instruments fic inspired by Sabrina, the movie. All human, Seriously OOC. Image credit to FreeDigitalPhotos.
1. Chapter 1

**Mortal Instruments fic inspired by Sabrina, the movie (technically the 1954 version, although the later one is pretty much the same). AU, all human, Clary/Jace, seriously OOC. Told from various points of view. Rated M for possible lemons, if I dare write them. Gulp. I'll let you know as they come up.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters in Mortal Instruments or Sabrina, I'm only letting them play with one another, as long as they're nice. **

**To my beta in Spain, my aca-fan sensei (I am your grasshopper) and purrina57. This story literally wouldn't have happened without you peeps. I'm still n****ot sure I have it in me, but here goes.**

* * *

Chapter 1

"Seventeen years old and still climbing trees," my grandfather would have said if he were still around. Gone were the days when I did it for the tasty apples, though,. Today I intend to get a good look at the beautiful salon where the biggest party in the Hamptons would be held. And I, Clarissa Fairchild, currently sitting on this seemingly sturdy branch, had a perfect view of the goings-on. The Lightwoods threw THE party in THE Hamptons, and everyone who's anyone would be here. I'd make a great paparazzo, I tell myself as I hang on for dear life.

Of course, I wasn't invited. It wasn't that Robert and Maryse Lightwood were unkind, they simply never thought to mix apples with pears. My mom, an accomplished artist, was in charge of buying art for their gallery, which gives her plenty of time to paint on the side. It also gives her time to worry about me. In her defense, I'm a full-time job. She worries that I still behave like a child and that I show no signs of growing up. She'd like to see me wear make-up and paint my nails, but I can't be bothered to do any of those things. It helps that I'm a late, very late bloomer. The shape-like-a-milk-carton kind.

Life at the Lightwoods is pretty sweet. We live in the servant's quarters, on a separate property adjacent to their mansion. We attend one of the best schools in the country, the kind only the right address can provide, even though we are in no way rich. Sure, we get harassed by the rich kids, but if you know how to roll with the punches, they'll eventually leave you alone. Over time, each and every staff member of the Lightwoods is like family. My knees have been mended by more people than I can remember.

My mom and I came here when I was six. I don't know much about my dad, except that he was a horrible person who still found it in him to leave me a college fund before he died. Knowing my college is paid for has not made my life easier. I'm not sure I want my father's money and, even if I do, I have no idea what I'd like to study or where I'd go. Unlike Simon, who'd had to work odd jobs and save every single cent he'd ever earned to go to college, I couldn't play the "oh-I-don't-know-if-I'll-even-be-able-to-go-to-college" card. I had the grades and the money, I just didn't have the drive. I guess I didn't want to leave the Lightwoods. Make that _a_ Lightwood.

My eyes set on the bane of my existence: Alec Lightwood. His deep blue eyes and dark hair made every bit of my girly side swoon in giddy glory. If only my mom knew what Alec did to my girl parts and the impure thoughts I often had regarding him, she'd be less concerned about my immaturity and more concerned about my maturity. My panties would be in a twist, if they could miraculously wiggle in any direction as I ungraciously hang from the tree. Alas, Alec was, to put it kindly, a player. To put it unkindly, he was a man-whore. Unfortunately for me, I was a lowlier version of his kid brother, Max. I was the freckle-faced tomboy with a fan of curly red hair that refused to be tied in any form of ponytail. I had no curves. My body simply wasn't made to be put inside a gown that could twirl prettily at a dance. I did well as a Crayola on Halloween, but that was pretty much as fancy as it got.

"You're going to fall on your ass again, Clary, and I refuse to carry your sorry, broken behind back home again" said Simon, my best friend, son of the Lightwood's gourmet chef. He was the closest thing to a brother to me, which is why I never thought twice about telling him to beat it.

"Don't you have some of Isabelle's panties to sniff or something?" I replied, a bit horrified at my excessive meanness. My underwear was giving me a horrible wedgie, it was hard to be kind under the circumstances.

"Man, you can be a cantankerous hag sometimes. Just remember I told you so" he huffed as he walked away.

I was again left to my own devices. I lay down on the branch and stretch out my hand to grab my binoculars, swing to the left and then scramble to grab hold of the branch once again. Once I've regained my balance, I pull myself up, sit and peer into them. I scan the beautiful salon all decked out in the best linen, the fancy plates with a gold rim. The very ones I'd helped set not three hours ago. My thoughts go to poor Amatis and her housekeeping staff, who'd have to deal with the _apr__è__s-party_ cleanup. Some minutes later, I set my eyes on Alec, who is flirting with some cheap, blonde floozy. Really, he had the worst taste. Who like boobs?

In my excitement, I fail to notice I've leaned to my left and need to let go of the binoculars to counterbalance. There, back on the branch, done like a pro. Maybe I should be a jockey. Lord knows at my five-foot-two I'd be a shoe-in.

I set my eyes on Jace Lightwood. He's not bad to look at, really. He is, in one word, golden. Golden hair, golden eyes and the most beautiful golden skin. He was also captain of the football team and graduated with honors from business school a couple years ago. He's like Midas, everything he touches he turns into gold. You'd think there's nothing wrong with him, but there is. Under his rule, Lightcorp has grown tenfold. He eats small companies for breakfast, his dad says. I honestly find it a bit scary that the kid who taught me how to swim could be capable of crushing his competition without batting an eye. I've known him to be kind, but think that part of Jace might be gone forever. Everything about him is serious, just like everything about Alec is about fun. Where Jace wears a business suit with a dark, traditional print tie, Alec wears a tuxedo with a cumberband to match his blue eyes. Alec was the life of the party, the politician, the canoodler. Jace was the stick in the mud. He'd be your man, if you ever wanted a stick in the mud, which, of course, no one does.

I again set my eyes on Jace, who's surrounded by a group of older gentlemen smoking cigars, a blank expression in his face, as if proving my point. He'd just as happily jump into a shark-infested ocean, it seems, than keep this kind of company, but I am sure it's his way of canoodling.

Alec, on the other hand, oozes excitement. I see his blue eyes dance merrily as he chats up the blonde, although he cases the joint like a thief, identifying his next prey.

"Ooooooh, I am a floooozy, watch me twiddle my dyed-blonde hair, ooooooh" I mimic as the blonde speaks excitedly to Alec. Deep down, though, I know she might be a kind and intelligent human, and my mean words simply make me feel shallow. It isn't her fault I still had to buy underwear in the kid's section at The Gap. I had to confess that she had a lovely rack, and none of it appeared to be toilet paper. I sigh.

Ever the masochist, I watch them talk for a bit. He stands up and walks across the room to get her more punch, which she accepts graciously. A waiter offers Alec champagne and he drinks it swiftly. I wonder for a second if he's going to A few minutes later, they slowly move to the dance floor, her lovely red satin gown twirling in the air as he holds her waist gently, his eyes fixed on her face. I watch as he leans in and whispers something in her ear, to which she simply smiles. She leans into his ear and says something that makes his eyes dance with joy.

Having had enough for now, I decide to reach for an apple to calm my grumbling stomach. I don't really feel like getting off the tree just yet to go back home for dinner. Plus, I'm sure Simon would take my stalker-spot in a heartbeat. It was a much coveted place. He was obsessed with Isabelle, Alec's sister. I suppose she's all right, if you like tall, thin women with a rack.

Two apples later, I return to my stalking. I grab the binoculars once more and quickly sweep over the hoards of people in the crowded salon, but can't find Alec. I feel a quickening of my pulse and, in a second of shock, let the binoculars slide out of my hands. In a reflex, my arms jut out to catch them, and I feel myself slide sideways.

I crash to the ground with a thud and pass out.

I wake up, still on the ground, attempt to sit up and immediately know something's wrong. It feels like I'm bending my arm the wrong way, like an everyday movement is somehow wrong.

Oh crap, I've broken my arm. Again. My mom's going to kill me.

"Are you OK? We were on our way to the tennis courts when we heard something fall right in front of us" says a sweet, pleasant female voice. I turn to see Alec and the blonde girl looking at me, clearly concerned.

Earth, swallow me now. Please. Seriously. Maybe a nice earthquake.

I feebly attempt to smile, quickly scanning the grounds in the dark to see if the binoculars are within sight. They appear to be nowhere near.

"My mom got a yen for apple pie and I thought I'd fetch some apples. Clearly that was a dumb idea, seeing as how it's dark and all. It's been ages since I climbed a tree, obviously. It's so much harder than I remember."

"Do you want us to call your mom for you? Or would you rather that I take you back to your place?" asks Alec.

Oh you lovely Roman god, take me in your strong arms, rock me in your hard muscular chest and make me yours. Take me home, my love.

For a fraction of a second, I wonder if I have said this aloud, but then decide their anxious stares must be due to genuine concern and I flush in embarrassment.

"Thanks, my arm seems to be broken, but I'm otherwise quite able to walk back home myself" I reply.

"You were always a tough kid, I've always admired how resilient you are" says Alec.

Kid? Resilient? I wonder if they'll be able to mend my broken heart at the hospital.

They help me up, brush the dirt off me and walk away after asking me again if I'm sure I'm fine. I nod, afraid my voice will give away how close I am to crying. I watch them walk away, chatting and laughing, already privy to some personal joke. My cheeks flame in embarrassment as I start to grope around the ground for the binoculars with my one good hand, only to find they have broken. Broken arm, broken binoculars, broken heart.

The next two hours pass by in a tizzy. Time seems to slow down and speed up on and off. I remember bits and pieces in anachronic order. I hear my mom yelling at Luke, the chauffeur, to drive faster. I recognize Alaric, the groundskeeper, insist that they put ice on my arm, only for Kaelie, Max's nanny, to insist one must apply heat to it. Simon mentions that, should someone be stung by a stingray, you should pee on the affected area. Hmm, good to know. I remember Simon apologizing profusely for not insisting I get off the tree, then another bit about not being interested in Isabelle's underwear. I tell them I like apple pie. This last comment causes the whole room to go quiet.

"Clearly she's got a concussion" my mother tells the doctor, who replies something unintelligible in an attempt to soothe her. It seems he's handled his dose of overbearing mothers because she visibly relaxes.

I wonder if I've been given medication.

I slowly open my eyes and close them again. I blink a couple more times until I get used to the light. My head is killing me, and I feel the light has burned the tissue behind my eye sockets.

I don't remember feeling this bad since that time Simon and I drank all the champagne leftovers after a bash at the Lightwoods when we were eleven.

I slowly turn and notice my mother sleeping in a chair next to me. Even as she sleeps, I see the creases on her forehead. My heart sinks, knowing I've made her worry yet again. She might be overbearing, but I'm all she has. She's all I've got.

She opens her eyes, and I smile sweetly at her. Then she opens her mouth, and all hell breaks loose.

Mom gives me a lecture all the way back home, driving at 10 mph.

As I arrive home, I quickly make my way to my bedroom, or what is to be my sole place of residence for the next two weeks. I can't deny that some of what my mother has said makes sense. I need to get away from Alec, it's bordering on insanity. I also need to start planning for college. Or life. I have no idea what I'd like to do with my life.

You know how some people aren't really very good at anything? I'm not one of those. I'm fairly good at everything I attempt, I'm just not good enough at any one thing. I'm also not particularly interested in anything. I like to draw and cook, but I've never really given either a shot. I'm also mean pot thrower, but you don't want to know about my obsession with the movie "Ghost."

I spend most of the next month avidly reading all there is in the local library, trying to figure out who I am. I'd be lying if I said I didn't stalk Alec a bit more, but I was fairly good all summer.

I discovered I bake a mean apple pie.

I'm going to be a chef. Paris, here I come.

I wonder how you say "How much do those binoculars cost" in French.

* * *

**So there it is, I'd love to hear from you. **

**The next chapter will be set a couple years from now. If you've seen the movie, you know the gist of it. **

**I fully intend to update once a week and finish this story, but I'm busy as heck and have a life, so please be patient and kind :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**OK, I realized I can't skip two years into the future because I need to tell you what happened! More importantly, you need to know how. So I've decided on a year, and I'll try to make it short and fun :)**

**Characters are still Cassandra Clare's, and yes, the movie Sabrina provided the plot (minus some twists and turns which are entirely mine because who else would be this loony). Basically I just threw it all in a big pot. Make that a cauldron. Ok, on to the chapter.**

* * *

Chapter 2

_Dear Mom:_

_OK, I'm writing you from Paris. Paris, Mom! What can I tell you? It's beautiful and romantic and people speak French. It sounds silly when I say it, but they do and it's so exotic. I suppose I'm the exotic one. That's just plain scary. I can't believe a week ago I was still in America. Yes, they call it America, not the United States. I've also been called things I can't find in the dictionary. I'll make a point of finding out what they meant._

_I met a really nice bunch at the hostel and we've decided to rent an apartment together. It's about 20 minutes away from the Institute. I've been thinking about getting a moped. It'd really save me time._

Oh dear God, are we covered for moped accidents? Note to self – Jocelyn, speak to insurance agent tomorrow.

_I went for a walk yesterday and somehow ended in his place called Monmartre. There's all these artists painting on the sidewalks and it made me want to paint so badly. Remember how I used to do that? It sure was bad luck breaking both wrists when fell off that bike, I guess I didn't pick it up afterwards, but I'd like to try some art classes on the side. Alec gave me a kiss on the cheek that time._

Here we go again. "By the way, mom, how's Alec? Just asking."

_By the way, mom, how's Alec? You know, just asking. I'm sure he's fine. Has he asked about me?_

_Anyway, give my love to Luke and the gang. I sure miss you all. You know those postcards that say "I wish you were here?" Well, I do._

_Love,_

_Clary_

* * *

_Dear Mom:_

_I can't believe I've been here a whole month. I just got back from my first cooking class. We spent twenty minutes breaking eggs (did you know it's all in the wrist?) and then to hours trying to bake a soufflé. Chef says it's called soufflé because it should be light as air. Apparently I need to work better at my soufflé, because Chef called mine a _pétard_. Not sure what that means, but based on his expression, I'd guess it's bad. I did try to explain to him that I broke both my wrists and they hurt like mad when I do repetitive circular motions, but he didn't believe me._

_I have the most amazing classmate. Sir Magnus Bane. Yes, mom, a Sir!_

Oh, that's good.

_He lives with a really handsome man who works in the fashion industry. _

Oh, that's bad.

_They've given me a makeover and I think you'd approve._

Oh, that's good.

_I've cut my hair short and realized men really like my legs._

I'd better stop reading for a bit.

_It seems I'm a really talented painter. I find myself putting up with the cooking lessons just so I can run to art classes. Also, I don't like the fact that chef asks us to call him "Chef." "Yes, Chef," right away, Chef." I feel like I joined the army! He's a mean, awful man. I should make him eat my soufflé._

_I hope you can drop me a line whenever you can. I miss you awfully._

_Love, _

_Clary_

_P.S.: I haven't broken anything yet. Well, some plates, but no bones._

_P.P.S.: How's Alec? Has he mentioned me?_

* * *

_Dear Mom:_

_I can't believe it's been two months since I last wrote. You probably think I'm a horrible daughter. The weather changed and I had to scramble to get a decent coat. I know we packed all of my winter clothes, but when I took them out of the closet, they seemed so plain! They also don't seem to fit around my chest. I went bra shopping yesterday with Magnus and it seems I've grown into a decent 34B. Or what would be a 34B. It's a 90B here._

_I kind of miss when people looked me in the eye, mom. Then again, I do spend an awful time looking at my chest myself._

_Although I love the food out here, I hate cooking it. French cuisine must be the hardest, I can't get anything right. _

_I'll just come right out and say it. Mom, a career in gastronomy just isn't for me. I dread going to cooking school, and find myself thinking of painting all day. I think you of all people can appreciate that._

She's finally figured it out.

_I want to be an artist. I've enrolled in an art institute full time. I'm sending a few sketches I think you'll enjoy._

_You letters cheer me up enormously. I miss the apple tree. Apples simply aren't the same out here, Mom._

_Love,_

_Clary_

_P.S. I almost sent this letter out without asking about Alec. I hope he's OK. _

Oh for Pete's sake, Clary!

* * *

_Dear Mom:_

_I know it's only a crummy postcard, and I know it's been like months, but I've never been this happy. Is this what you feel when you paint?_

_Wish you were._

_Love,_

_Clary_

* * *

_Dear Mom:_

_I'm so sorry, you must think I'm a terrible daughter. I know it's been six months since I last wrote, and, although I never write, I think of you every time I grab a drawing pencil. I hope you have received my drawings. These days, it seems I find it easier to say what I feel with pictures. I see life as a big canvas that is begging for color._

Is this my little girl?

_I can't believe it's been a year. Although I remember very little of dad, and I know he was awful to you, I'm so thankful he gave me this opportunity. I do hope it doesn't hurt your feelings when I say that. I'm aware that you've worked hard all your life, and you gave me such a lovely childhood. But you never could have afforded all of this. I can't help but feel like you paid for my happiness by putting up with his antics. I love you mom._

_OK now I've probably made you cry. I'm sorry! Paris has made me so sentimental. I should lay off the poetry. Magnus has been taking me to poetry readings and I'v been hanging out with a literary bunch. I feel it compliments my painting._

_I'm such a snob!_

_I love you mom. Yes, I know I already said so. I do._

_Clary_

**OK, so short little chapter to fill in the blanks. I've tried to recreate the overwhelming feelings when you live abroad (excitement, shock, acceptance, absolute badassness), but I might have failed miserably. Comments always welcome :) **

**Yay! Now Clary can come home. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi, sorry about the late update. Family and work stuff, all positive, but I'm exhausted.**

**AJ Davis, you brought up a great point. I intended for Clary to come home for summer vacation, but didn't openly say it.**

**Liz113 here you go :)**

**lostinafairytale eb (I've posted this three times, it deletes it because of the dot), purrina57, thank you so much. It means the world and you know it :)**

**Just a brief reminder that it is the 1950s, simply because they rocked. Chances are I screwed up either the lingo or the clothes, but I'm hoping I didn't. I tried to research it as best I could, but if you see any inconsistencies, do let me know.**

* * *

Chapter 3

The train slowly pulls into the station, so I finally pull my head in. I have looked out the window the entire trip, trying to see if I remember every single detail along the way. I realize that nothing has changed, and yet, everything seems different. It's like I've never seen it before. Naturally, the houses continue to be sprawling properties, but I no longer find them that impressive.

I already miss Magnus. And croissants. And oh, pains au chocolat. I miss our morning coffee at the café around the corner of my apartment. I miss dinners at his place, and being his boyfriend's mannequin. I suppose it'll all be there when I come back in three months, after summer vacation, but I can't help miss it so.

I daintily take out my powder compact and rearrange a few strands of hair that have flown out of my elaborate chignon. I then check my make-up and correct it, making sure I still have that cat-like look in my emerald-green eyes. Finally I stand up to collect my luggage when a kind gentleman intervenes.

"Please, allow me."

"Oh, you are much too kind" I reply, surprising myself with the refinement in my voice. Magnus must have rubbed off on me.

We part ways as we alight from the train, and I thank him with a shy smile, to which he replies with a tip of his hat.

I make my way out of the station and straighten my clothes. I notice my wiggle dress has a few creases and attempt to straighten out without much success. It has, after all, been ages since I got in it. Well, at least my pantyhose have no runs. I take out my bottle of perfume, spritz a little and then check the time. I yawn, suddenly feeling extremely tired, glad that my eyes are hidden behind my sunglasses.

It's not like my mother to be late.

Am I actually worrying about my mother? Wonders never cease.

I wait another twenty minutes until I see a red convertible stop right in front of me. For a moment I think it is Luke, who's borrowed one of the cars to come and pick me up. Luke, however, would not drive so recklessly.

Alec jumps off the car with a flourish and offers me a 100-watt smile. The same one I have seen a million times.

I control the wish to sigh out loud.

"Why, it seems your boyfriend has stood you up. Such a shame. If you were my girlfriend, I would make sure I don't leave you to the wolves."

"Has my mother sent you?" I ask him, genuinely confused.

"Oh, I'm pretty sure no mother wants me near her daughter," he replies.

My mother couldn't agree more, I am sure. I, on the other hand, am thrilled to bits. Not being able to express my utter delight physically pains me.

"As it just so happens, I was on my way home when I spotted a lovely woman who looks like she needs a lift" he says, a glint in his lovely blue eyes.

I find it oddly amusing that he still hasn't recognized me and decide to string him along. It's only fair, after all.

"Why, I do believe I am stranded," I reply in the most demure and seductive way possible. The same one I have practiced in front of a mirror for months.

"Not to worry, I would gladly offer you my services as a driver."

"Oh, that would be lovely! But you don't know where I'm going, it might be out of your way."

"Now, you let me worry about that! Where do you live?"

"Not too far from the Lightwood estate. Are you familiar with it?"

His eyes widen suddenly, a look of utter shock and confusion, but a hint of banter is never far behind. He enjoys it. "But you're my neighbor! Surely I would have seen you around! Oh well, you know what they say, love thy neighbor."

He opens the car door for me, and I step in gingerly as he haphazardly drops my luggage in the backseat with a flick of his wrist. I take out my scarf and wrap it over my hair, making sure I don't repeat the disaster that occurred on the train. I must, after all, appear as lady-like as possible. It's so much work!

How do women do it?

Oh wait, I'm a woman now. But wasn't I always?

For a moment, I consider asking him to stop the car so I can climb up an apple tree. It's what I truly want to do. But I don't. It would be stupid, trying to go up a tree in my wiggle dress. I suddenly feel overwhelmed by it all.

"So, what does your family do?" I ask him as we head out of the station. Anywhere else, you'd be more likely to ask what he does for a living, but out here, you do what your family has done for generations.

"Oh, we are in the mergers and acquisitions business. Don't worry your pretty head, it's all terribly boring. Trust me, I know what I'm talking about. I keep my comments to a minimum. I'm just the pretty face they attach to business deals." He turns around and gives me his most dazzling smile possible.

"Don't you find it boring, having to sit there and pretend to be someone you aren't?"

He scoffs, a small rueful smile painting his otherwise agreeable face. "I have yet to meet someone who isn't pretending to be someone else. I'd hardly get paid for sailing in the yacht and drinking champagne."

"But is that all you want to do with your life? What do you want to do when you wake up in the morning?" I insist.

"Well, on a good day, I wake up hoping to meet someone as beautiful and entertaining as you," he replies.

I'm not swayed by his smile, and I can certainly see through his attempts to change the subject. How could be possibly know I am entertaining? He can't possibly think I'm amusing based on this conversation.

We make small talk as we drive through the winding roads, his eyes often landing on me appreciatively. It makes my heart flutter no end.

As we finally arrive at his house, he cuts the engine suddenly and turns to me. "All right, do you intend to tell me where you live, or are you going to keep playing games with me?"

"Oh, I assure you Alec, I'm done playing games. Would you be kind enough to help me with my luggage?"

"Wait, I don't remember introducing myself."

He finds the whole business rather amusing and helps me off the car, shaking his head in disbelief.

My mother's head pops out of a window in the house, waves and slams the window shut. A couple of minutes later, I see her run out the door, followed by Luke, Amatis and Kaelie.

"Clary, oh my goodness, is it really you?" Her arms fly out and gather me into an enormous motherly hug as she kisses both my cheeks. "I'm so sorry, I got delayed and had no way to let Luke know so he could pick you up!"

All eyes suddenly find Alec, followed by an uncomfortable silence. Alec stands, leaning slightly with his right hand on the car, his mouth wide open. It is the first time I fail to see any hint of amusement in his eyes.

"C-Clary?" he utters in absolute disbelief.

"Hi, Alec," I reply sheepishly.

Bingo.

* * *

**OK, short chapter but surely you can see why it just had to end right there. I have no idea what I'm doing, adapting a film! It was utter lunacy :)**

**I need your help. I need a female character to vie for Alec's attention. Sadly, I used Kaelie before thinking it through (we love to hate Kaelie, it seems). Any thoughts? It would be creepy to use Isabelle, right? **

**Oh, and the "love thy neighbor" line, unfortunately, is not mine. It's taken directly from the movie. Hence its absolute genius.**


End file.
